


no matter of if (just a matter of when)

by riverblujay



Series: analogical human au [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (not mentioned explicitly but its still there), (royality), ADHD Logan Sanders, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- Teachers, Fluff, M/M, Tooth rottening, Trans Roman, everyone is always shook at analogical being a Thing, g s a, i will single handedly make that a tag if i must, logan is the best teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:52:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15957317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverblujay/pseuds/riverblujay
Summary: “I was wondering…” Roman hesitated. “Well, see, I looked it up, and would you believe that no one has started a GSA here yet? So I researched policies for starting a school club, but the rules say that you need a faculty adviser, so I guess what I’m saying is would you mind being the sponsor for the GSA if I started one?” the theatre student said in what looked like one breath to Logan.(or: roman and patton almost singlehandedly start the school gsa, logan is the teacher you've always wanted, and logan and virgil are really hecking gay.)





	no matter of if (just a matter of when)

**Author's Note:**

> so this more than doubles the word count for this verse,, im as shook as you are

“Hey, Mr. Sanders,” Roman called out to Logan, knocking on the open door as he entered Logan’s classroom after the last class of the day. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” Logan replied. “Though I am confused. I do not have you for any of my classes this year.”

“Yeah, I know. It was actually about something else.”

Logan raised an eyebrow in response, and gestured as if to say  _ well, continue. _

“I was wondering…” Roman hesitated. “Well, see, I looked it up, and would you believe that no one has started a GSA here yet? So I researched policies for starting a school club, but the rules say that you need a faculty adviser, so I guess what I’m saying is would you mind being the sponsor for the GSA if I started one?” the theatre student said in what looked like one breath to Logan.

He almost closed his eyes as he exhaled. “Roman, firstly,  _ calm down. _ You don’t need to say everything in one go all the time, you know.” He gave Roman a pointed look as the student blushed lightly and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, both knowing that Logan was referring to the time another student had dared Roman to say as many elements of the periodic table as he could in one breath.

(Logan had chastised the students but also surreptitiously looked the other way when he noticed a few dollar bills change hands. He probably should have cracked down on it, but they had all been sophomores at the time and Logan saw no real harm in childish bets.)

After the pause of Roman regaining his breath, Logan continued. “Second- I would not mind being involved in creating a group with that purpose. Did you have a specific plan?”

He smiled at Logan, bright and bold- he wondered if Roman knew that there was no doubt in Logan’s mind at sponsoring such a group. 

“Well, I knew that I definitely needed an adviser. And the handbook says to start a club I need at least five committed members.”

“Alright,” Logan replied. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Well, there’s Patton, obviously,” Roman said almost abashedly, and Logan could see the slightly lovestruck look on his face.  _ Ah, _ he thought.  _ Young love. _ The teacher mentally shook himself before he could fall back into his own memories of the early days of his and Virgil’s relationship. 

“Obviously,” Logan said back, with the hint of a smirk on his face. 

“And I think I can convince Elliott to come, probably.”

Elliott, the sophomore in Logan’s Chemistry I class. Logan had enjoyed having them in class; at least, the one day of class they had had so far, and he knew that they somewhat looked up to Roman. Or rather, Roman had taken them under his wing last year due to his “responsibilities as Theatre Dad.” 

Logan frowned in thought. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to get at least two more people to commit if you put posters and such around the school.”

“True.”

He subtly bit his lip. “Did you have an idea of when you would want to have the first meeting?”

“No, not yet,” Roman stated. “I’ll have improv on Fridays, and I was wondering if there was a specific day you would prefer. Since you’re the one sponsoring it and all that.”

“Well,” Logan sighed as he thought. “I can’t do Wednesdays,” he said. (He didn’t finish with  _ Wednesdays nights are date nights, _ but Logan figured that that was information Roman probably didn’t need to know.)

“You have my school email, correct?” 

“Yes,” Roman stated.

“You can always email me if you need to contact me. And you know my office hours.”

(Logan had always been frustrated at his teachers when  _ he _ was in high school about having to either stay after class- which wasn’t always feasible- or actually schedule a time to talk with a teacher about a certain topic. College office hours were something that he greatly appreciated, and so he implemented them into his own classroom. Logan put them first on the syllabus, and left them permanently written on the corner of a whiteboard. His open door policy had only cemented his place as a favorite teacher of many among students, so he had heard.)

Roman smiled. “Alright, I guess I’ll contact you later. Bye, Mr. S,” Roman called as he began to leave Logan’s classroom. “You’re the best!” Logan chuckled to himself.  _ At least I’ll have an interesting story for dinner tonight. _

 

\---

 

“Well that’ll be fun,” his husband said, albeit slightly sarcastically. “You. A shitload of teenagers.”

Logan frowned. “Virgil, my  _ job _ is literally me being around a shitload of teenagers for roughly eight hours a day.”

“I know. I don’t know how you stand it.” Virgil and Logan both chuckled because Logan knew Virgil wasn’t entirely serious. Virgil acted like he hated kids, but  _ Logan _ wasn’t the one that regularly volunteered at the local library as a children’s “story corner” reader. 

(Sometimes the thought of children of their own crossed Logan’s mind. Not regularly, but in the summers Logan would occasionally tag along and he saw how good Virgil really was with the kids. He knew that if it ever became a possibility, Virgil would make a good dad. But that wasn’t something to be discussed tonight.)

“Roman seems to have taken to the responsibility well. I imagine he thinks it will help him ‘leave his mark on the world,’ so to speak.” 

Virgil hummed and took a bite of his dinner before continuing. “Has he asked you about college recommendation letters yet? Or Patton?” his husband asked.

Logan frowned. “Not yet, though I imagine that will happen in the near future. I’ve already had a few requests from other students, though. I’ll be extremely busy.”

Virgil smiled at him. “That’s what you get for being amazing at your job.” Logan blushed. 

“Did your editor send back the first draft yet?”

“Yeah,” Virgil sighed. “She said that she liked it so far, which is good. Now comes the actual  _ editing _ part, though.”

Logan gently took his husband’s hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Logan frowned.

“Virgil, you are an  _ excellent _ writer. All of the success you’ve had only proves it to the rest of the world. I am lucky that I get to be a part of your life and your success.” His husband ducked his head a little but glanced at Logan through his bangs. “Thanks,” he mumbled. Logan smiled back at him. 

Logan let go of Virgil’s hand and grabbed their plates, setting them on the counter next to the sink. He returned to Virgil’s chair, bending down to place a chaste kiss on the top of his head.

“Come on,” the teacher said softly. “Let’s watch something.” Virgil stood and they both changed into soft pajamas, queueing up a few Disney movies he and his husband both enjoyed. They snuggled up next to each other on the couch. 

Logan loved these moments, the sappily sweet ones, where neither of them needed to be overt about their relationship. How it was enough for them to just  _ be _ , to exist in the same space, the same time, to exist together. Eventually they moved to their room, but that didn’t mean the way they held each other like they were the only thing anchoring them to the world stopped any time soon. 

Logan awoke the next morning at his usual time, and unfortunately pried himself away from Virgil’s warmth. He silently ate breakfast and got ready for work, making sure to prepare enough coffee so that Virgil could have his own later in the morning. Before he left, he finished the last step in his morning ritual.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Logan whispered to his husband.

“Mmm,” Virgil groaned. Logan smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Love you,” he said softly.

Virgil opened his eyes and pushed himself up off of the pillow. “Love you too,” he replied.

“See you tonight. Coffee is ready for you.”

Virgil smiled. “Love you  _ lots _ .” Logan smiled and made his way out of the bedroom, grabbing his keys from the kitchen and walking out the door to the garage where the car he drove to school was parked. 

The sun had almost finished rising, Logan noticed, when he exited his car after it was parked in the staff lot- which made sense, what with it being late August and all. He grabbed his bag and made his way to his classroom, unlocking the door and settling into his seat. The teacher began prepping for the day’s lessons. Today was only the second day of school, and he was planning to start off with an icebreaker, most likely (just because his students were high schoolers didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a good game).

(Also, icebreaker games were usually for Logan’s benefit- the first days were half days, and he needed  _ some _ way to learn the students’ names. And pronouns, which many teachers didn’t necessarily care about. Logan was actually known among the student body as a teacher that would confront another teacher or member of the administration about improper pronoun usage if needed.

There were likely many reasons Roman had approached Logan with the possibility of being the adviser for the GSA, his reputation likely being one of them.)

Logan glanced over his lesson plan for first period, and a thought occurred to him. He pulled out his laptop and began composing an email.

 

_ To: prince.roman6401@gmail.com _

_ From: logansanders@gainscountyschools.com  _

_ Subject: GSA announcement _  
  


_ Roman,  _

_ It occurred to me that it would potentially be beneficial if I announced the pending creation of the GSA in my classes today. I do not know if you will see this email before first period, but if you do, please respond and let me know if it is adequate for me to list you as a person of contact for the club.  _

_ I am also including my personal phone number, for ease of future communications, should you so desire. _

_ Logan Sanders _

_ attached file: mobile number _

 

Satisfied, Logan pressed  _ send _ and made sure his phone was in view and not on silent, for now. He went back to reviewing his lesson for first period (Chemistry I) but only a few minutes later he received a text notification.

 

_ Unknown Number: hey, mr. sanders, it’s roman. announcing the club in your classes isn’t a bad idea, if you’re alright with it. _

_ Unknown Number: also, it’s chill if you list me as someone to contact, just use my email. _

_ You: Alright. And Roman- I don’t have you in any more classes. I would not be offended if you were to call me Logan. _

_ Roman P.: i’ll think about it, mr. s _

_ You: Fair enough. Let me know when you decide on a day for the first meeting. _

_ Roman P.: will do! :) _

 

Logan turned his phone back on silent and moved to the whiteboard, copying the day’s agenda for his sophomores (this year most of his classes were Chem I, but he did have Honors Chem I and Honors Chem II after lunch, which was likely when he would switch the plan written on the board). 

After copying the agenda, he glanced at his watch- ornate and silver, a five year anniversary present from Virgil- and saw he had roughly twenty minutes before first period began, which meant the students who liked to be early would be arriving soon. Sure enough, five minutes later saw the first entrance: Elliott.

The sophomore approached Logan. “Um,” they said, nervously, “I just wanted to… thank you, I guess. Most teachers don’t use the right pronouns on the first day,” they mumbled, their head facing the floor.

“Elliott,” Logan stated gently, looking right at them. “I want you to know, if you don’t already, that I can and will talk to any teachers that refuse to use the proper pronouns for you, should you ask for it.” Elliott looked up with slight disbelief on their face, and Logan smiled at them. “It certainly would not be the first time for me to do so.” 

They pursed their lips together. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Sanders,” they said softly, and made their way to a seat. 

As the first bell drew closer, more and more students filed into the room, a few holding tumblers most likely filled with coffee or tea, some even tiredly clasping Starbucks cups like the caffeine was a lifeline. Logan hoped that other teachers hadn’t begun assigning homework already- these were sophomores, for fuck’s sake.

Bitterness at the public school system aside, Logan sat at his desk, silently fidgeting with his ring underneath it and let the students chat among themselves until the bell that signaled the beginning of class rang. The last of the class entered the room as the warning bell went off, everyone settling into a seat. A minute later, the official bell rang and the students silenced themselves.

Evidently, Logan’s reputation preceded him, even among the tenth graders. 

“Hello, class,” He said as energetically as he could. “I hope that your first day of sophomore year didn’t treat you too terribly.” A few students laughed at Logan’s attempted humor. 

“Since we didn’t have an inordinate amount of time yesterday, I was planning on having you fill out a questionnaire- basic information about yourself and such- and then we will do an icebreaker.” The class looked a little surprised, and Logan added, “More for my benefit than yours, I’m afraid. I have to learn your names somehow, and I, personally, don’t believe in assigned seats unless they are  _ absolutely necessary. _ It’s just as painful for me as it is for you, my record of not having assigned seats is five years strong, and I’d rather not break it.”

By the end of his monologue, most of the students were smiling, a few even suppressing small laughs at Logan’s wry humor. “Now, for roll call,” he continued, “I have a clipboard. You may have noticed this classroom is arranged for ease of movement. In a reversal of what I’m sure you are used to, when I call your name, please raise your hand, correct me on my pronunciation or if you use a different name than the one listed on the roll, and I will bring the questionnaire to you.” 

A few students glanced at each other in confusion. “I have ADHD,” Logan explained. “I prefer not sitting still  _ whenever possible _ , it drives me insane.”

Logan began taking attendance, handing out worksheets and correcting names and pronunciations as necessary (using preferred names that he had already received via email and had been marked on his roll accordingly, such as Elliott’s). 

After all of the forms had been handed out, Logan returned to his desk chair, bouncing his leg as he waited. One by one, the students all turned in their sheets and after everyone had finished, he had everyone take their chairs and form a circle around the center of the room (the desks were placed parallel to each of the walls, with enough space to maneuver on both sides of the desks but left enough room in the center for activities such as this one). Logan grabbed his chair as well as a space themed stress ball and completed the circle. 

He held up the stress ball. “Now, as cliché as this is, we’ll each toss this to a person in the circle. You’ll say your name, your pronouns,” a few glanced at Logan in surprise and he added, “yes, pronouns, and if I catch anyone intentionally using the improper ones there will be consequences. This is a safe space, regardless of gender identity, expression, or sexuality.” 

He cleared his throat. “Anyways, you’ll say your name, pronouns, and a fact about you- even if it’s just your favorite subject, though I’m sure you all have something interesting to say about yourself. It could be a talent, a topic or activity you are passionate about, something along those lines.”

Logan tossed the ball into the air, catching it when gravity returned it to him. “I’m Mr. Sanders, I use he/him pronouns, and my favorite Disney movie is Big Hero Six.” Logan gently passed the ball to Elliott, who sat almost directly across from Logan.

They caught it with surprising skill. “Um, I’m Elliott,” they stated. “I use they/them pronouns, and I’m going to audition for the improv team this year.” They searched for a student to pass the ball onto, and slowly it made its way through the entire class. Logan did his best to commit all of the information to memory. When the sphere finally returned to him, Logan turned over his shoulder and placed it in its stand on his desk. He glanced at his watch again- just under ten minutes left of class.

“Okay,” he said, “You can go ahead and bring your chairs back to your desks. I have just a few announcements and then you’ll have the rest of the period as free time.” The chairs were noisily dragged back to their proper places, and Logan stood behind his desk as he started his spiel. 

“Now, firstly, I mentioned yesterday that I try not to assign  _ too _ much homework. This is based on the expectation that we get through what I have planned for the day in class. Of course, feel free to ask questions if you don’t understand the content- my schedule is designed with flexibility in mind, for that exact reason. I do expect that you study for tests, but I do not believe in ‘pop quizzes’ and will make sure to notify you at least five days in advance for quizzes- if not more- and the general dates for unit tests are listed on the syllabus. 

“Speaking of the syllabus, you will notice I have office hours listed on the front page, and they will always be written on the board,” He stated, gesturing to the spot on the whiteboard where his office hours were recorded. The students were still paying close attention, so he continued. 

“I have an open door policy- if you have any questions, need clarification, or have to make up a test or quiz, I will be available during those times unless an emergency arises. Feel free to stop in, and if needed I can schedule a time to aid you should none of those times work for you. If you so desire, I also have students in my upper level classes that do volunteer tutoring Thursday mornings and Wednesday afternoons. Any questions so far?”

He looked around the room carefully, and with no hands raised, he kept going. “Finally, this year a senior who is a former student of mine has decided to start an LGBT+ inclusive club- commonly known as a ‘GSA’, or ‘Gay Straight Alliance.’ I will be the faculty adviser for this club, and those that are interested in attending may write down an email address or some method of contact here,” he motioned to a clipboard resting on his desk, “and we will contact you when we have more information, such as the date of the first meeting. Feel free to use this time to write down your information, if you so desire.”

Logan exhaled. “Alright, I’m done. You may chat with one another or take out your cell phones, if you wish, but please do not reach an extremely high volume.” He sat back down at his desk and started preparing for second period as the students amused themselves, a few even approaching the desk and writing their contact information on the aforementioned clipboard. 

Minutes later, the bell signaling the end of the period rang, and the class left the room, a few chattering with each other- Logan heard discussions surrounding what classes students potentially shared, what lunch period they each had, and the like. He remained seated, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his desk, rereading his notes.

Once class began, it passed similarly to how first period did, as did third. Fourth was his plan period, which Logan used to change the agenda listed on the board to the honors version of the Chem I agenda (mostly the same as his first three periods, for now). Those two periods passed in the same vein as well.

Logan’s last class of the day was Honors Chem II- in other words, the students who had decided they liked chemistry enough to take another year of it (Chem II became AP Chem in the spring semester). The advantage of this class was that he had had most, if not all, of the students in class before. 

The students were excited enough to be there, and the icebreaker was more of a review game than anything, but it was a good end to all of their days, in Logan’s opinion. (Upper level chemistry classes also bore witness to his nerdier side, and Logan’s seemingly endless energy at the end of the day helped re-energize his students as well.)

At the sound of the bell, the upperclassmen filed out of his room, some of them exiting with the door leading directly outside in an attempt to beat school parking lot traffic. Logan said farewells to them as they left, leaning against the front of his desk. Eventually, all of the students had left his classroom, and Logan went back to reading over the forms he had handed out in each of his classes, filing them into separate binders- one for each class. 

Even though it was only the second day of the year, he still stood by his word, which meant he would be here until five. A quick glance at a clock informed him of the time; just shy of four. 

Logan turned his attention to preparing for the lectures that would begin the next day, double checking lesson plans and starting ones for next week. However, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. S?” Roman called. 

“Ah, Roman, come in.” Logan tried to sort out his desk into a semblance of organization. The senior simply stood in front of Logan, waiting for the teacher to finish.

“So, I was thinking, do you think Mondays would work as a meeting day?” Roman asked.

“That sounds adequate,” Logan replied. “I announced the club in my classes, and had those interested record their contact information on that clipboard,” he said, pointing at the object as he spoke of it. 

“Great,” Roman smiled. “I was going to start designing some posters to hang up around the school, too.” 

“Did Patton express interest in attending?”

“Oh, yeah, he offered to help me with the posters, too. You know how he is with computers,” Roman stated offhandedly. “I was actually going to meet up with him after school today,” the student trailed off.

“Yes, by all means. You’ll have to show me how the poster turns out- Patton’s expertise in graphic design never fails to amaze me.”

Roman smiled at Logan. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.” He gathered his things and left the room via the inner door- the teacher could even hear him call out to his boyfriend.

(They were so cute together, honestly. Patton had brought flowers for Roman at his play over the summer, and Logan had seen the two holding hands as they walked through the hallways already.)

Eventually, five o’clock arrived and Logan returned to his car, beginning the ten minute drive home. 

 

\--- 

Virgil, the amazing husband that he was, had made homemade pizza for dinner.

“You know,” he remarked to Logan as they finished setting the table, waiting for the pizza to finish baking. “I’ve noticed you compliment me more often whenever I cook. You sure you didn’t just marry me for my cooking?” his husband asked sarcastically, smirking.

“Of course not,” Logan stated matter-of-factly, with a smirk of his own.

“Are you  _ sure? _ ” Virgil said, dragging out the last word, smile growing more and more genuine.

“Alas, you’ve discovered my secret!” Logan dramatically exclaimed with a mirrored smile. “I married you simply to steal the delicious food you cook for me.” 

“Well, there must surely be consequences to such a crime.”

“Of course. And what might those ‘consequences’ be?” 

“How about  _ this- _ ” Virgil called, breaching the gap between them that had been gradually decreasing smaller throughout their conversation and lifting Logan in the middle of the kitchen, spinning him around for a few turns before setting him down to pull him into a kiss.

“I don’t know,” a breathless Logan cheekily said a minute later when they both broke away for air. “I might need a little more convincing.”

He and Virgil stared at each other, the oven timer interrupting them. Logan stopped himself from pouting and Virgil hurriedly kissed him on the cheek before using potholders to remove the pizza from the oven, quickly setting it on the stovetop to cool and turning off the oven.

“What were you saying, my darling husband?” Virgil said in a tone that was somehow a mix between sappy and sarcastic; a tone only Virgil was able to pull off. 

“Maybe,” Logan murmured, and peppered Virgil’s cheeks with kisses of his own, “I need some more convincing, my sweet and lovely husband.”

Virgil backed away the slightest bit. “You just like it when I pick you up- clearly you married me for my strength  _ and _ my skills in the kitchen.”

“What can I say?” Logan asked rhetorically. “I love a man who can lift me into the air.” He smiled. “Remember when we first moved in?”

“God, how could I forget?” Virgil chuckled. “I was scared I would drop you when you suddenly jumped into my arms without warning as we came through the door.”

“But you didn’t,” Logan reminded him, still smiling at his husband.

“Bet the pizza’s cool now,” Virgil muttered under his breath. Logan kissed his cheek again and walked to the drawer with the pizza cutter, carefully grabbing it and slicing the perfectly baked dough into eighths. Virgil brought over the plates and Logan placed two pieces on each plate to start. The plates were carried back to the table and the couple settled down to eat, continuing to chat. 

They relished the advantage of the season- namely, Logan’s lack of grading that wouldn’t last for much longer- and settled on the couch together after they finished eating, each taking turns reading sections from a book (tonight, Virgil was spoiling Logan, because he had suggested/insisted on Sherlock Holmes).

When they went to bed, they curled into each other again, relaxing with the comfort of the other against them.

 

\---

 

The next week and a half began the fall into the school year pattern; wake up, teach, come home, grade, repeat. Obviously, there were steps in between that Logan was excluding for dramatics, but that essentially was the routine. 

Weekends were sacred in the Sanders household- Logan and Virgil were able to wake at the same time and have their morning coffee together, sometimes even going to sit on the bench that was conveniently located on their front porch. 

Meanwhile, Roman had almost singlehandedly planned the first GSA meeting, scheduled to take place on the upcoming Monday. The posters had turned out great, of course, and there was a decent turnout expected. In the days preceding the meeting, Logan had sent out an email to all of the addresses on the list, notifying the recipients of the date and time (Monday, 4:00). 

“Good luck,” Virgil told him Monday morning. “You’ll do great.”

Logan wished he shared his husband’s confidence, but nonetheless thanked him for the compliment and left for school. The day passed as it normally would, and Logan managed to ignore the building anxiety in his gut.

Eventually, the day ended and Logan started fussing, adjusting random desks and pacing more than he would care to admit. Roman and Patton walked in about fifteen minutes before the actual meeting started and found Logan sitting on top of a student desk, swinging his legs slightly and fidgeting with his wedding ring. They stared at him with slight shock.

“What?” Logan responded, and the seniors shrugged it off, used to Logan’s restlessness even when it was higher than average. The couple commandeered a few desks of their own, preparing materials and greeting students along with Logan as they walked into the room (some of the students more shocked at the sight of him sitting on a desk than others). 

When four o’clock rolled around, Roman cleared his throat.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Roman Prince, I’m a senior, and I use he/him pronouns. I couldn’t believe the fact that I hadn’t noticed there was no form of a GSA at this school at all until this year, so I approached Mr. Sanders and he said he would be the faculty sponsor for us. If you haven’t had him,” the senior said as an aside, “he’s super chill. Hands down my favorite teacher, like,  _ ever. _ ” 

“Well, Roman,” Logan interrupted. “That is… extremely kind of you.”

“Just speaking the truth, Mr. S.”

Patton started his part of the welcome speech next.

“Hi! I’m Patton, I’m a senior too, and I use he/him or they/them pronouns, and I love dogs!” The levity was appreciated by the entire group- slightly larger than twenty students, including Roman and Patton. “We’re just going to start by going around the room saying our name, pronouns, grade, and something about ourselves.”

“If you’ve had Mr. Sanders,” Roman cut in and gestured to Logan, “You’re probably familiar with this. Me and Patton have gone, so who’s next? Elliott?” The theatre student said, looking to Patton’s right. 

“Fine,” they grumbled. “Name’s Elliott,” they said at a slightly louder volume. “Sophomore, they/them, and Roman takes his so called job of ‘Theatre Dad’ very seriously and will adopt you, regardless of whether or not you realize it at first.” Roman made affronted noises. “Also,” Elliott continued, “I’m trying out for the improv team when auditions for that start. So,” they shrugged awkwardly, “yeah. Next person.”

The introductions happened in a similar fashion as the ones in Logan’s classes, which wasn’t surprising, the only difference being a more concentrated amount of students that used pronouns other than ‘he’ or ‘she’. After the last student introduced themself, Roman and Patton gestured at Logan.

“Really?” he muttered at the two seniors, who only smirked at him. “Alright,” Logan sighed. “I’m Mr. Sanders,” he stated, addressing the entire room. “Obviously, I’m not any grade, though I do have a Master’s degree in both Chemistry and Secondary Education, because I was an overachiever in school, if you couldn’t tell. I use he/him pronouns, and my interesting fact is,” he trailed off, realizing at least a few of the students expected him to say something mundane and internally smirked. “My husband is an author who has multiple novels published that have made the  _ New York Times Bestseller  _ list.”

There were mostly shocked faces- for those that weren’t in last year’s AP Chem class, mostly at the fact that he himself was gay, and secondarily that Virgil was a famous author.

“It’s true,” Roman dramatically cried out. “He’s so  _ cool. _ ” Logan honestly wasn’t sure whether the student was referring to himself or Virgil, so he made no comment on Roman’s statement.

After that, the meeting mostly sorted itself out, Patton and Roman’s extreme preparedness coming in handy. When the meeting came to a close, the two seniors were the last to leave.

“You both did an excellent job,” Logan told them. 

“I suppose,” Roman mumbled. 

“It went great. I was overly nervous for no reason,” Logan admitted off-handedly. 

“You were nervous too?” Patton asked.

“Of course. It’s a huge undertaking, especially for you two. I’m glad it went well.”

They both smiled at him, then gathered their things and left for Roman’s car. Logan left for his own, making his way out of the staff parking lot easily. The short drive home felt even shorter than normal, to Logan, and when he walked in he saw Virgil sitting on the couch with his laptop- editing, most likely. 

“How’d it go?”

“Excellent, just as you predicted,” Logan said as he sat his bag down near the entryway, toeing his shoes off to join Virgil on the couch. His husband closed the computer and set it on the coffee table.

Logan collapsed onto the couch next to him, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and leaning into his husband’s side. “Why are people always surprised when they learn that I’m gay?” he said in a tired tone. 

“Heteronormativity,” Virgil deadpanned, which made Logan chuckle a little. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Hey,” his husband interrupted the quiet, and turned to face Logan.

“Hey,” he said back.

“Love you.”

Logan sighed. “Love you too. Nerd.”

“Ah, but I’m  _ your  _ nerd.” 

“I know. And you know what?” Logan asked.

“What?”

Logan spontaneously kissed his husband. “Wouldn’t trade you for any other nerd.”

The two smiled at each other and ended up repositioning themselves at some point so that he was laying on top of Virgil, the other’s arms wrapped perfectly around him. 

Logan silently twisted his ring to the background noise of Virgil’s deep breathing as his husband slept. 

**Author's Note:**

> i will fight for adhd logan and you can quote me on that
> 
> my fic on [tumblr](https://pastelvirgil.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20fic)


End file.
